


Midgardians Do It Best

by Canon_Is_Relative



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Digital art...sort of, F/M, Humor, asgardians vs midgardians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canon_Is_Relative/pseuds/Canon_Is_Relative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's easy to feel insecure when your girlfriend's best friend (who is also sort of your boss) is dating a god.</p><p>Or:</p><p>Thor and Ian accidentally one-upping each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midgardians Do It Best

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mojave Dragonfly (Dragonfly)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonfly/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, Dragonfly! Thank you for telling me I should watch these movies <3
> 
> Warnings for my terrible photoshop skills

Darcy runs to the window, looking out in time to see Jane bound from the building and out into the street where Thor is materializing in a thunderous blaze of light and glory.

 

It’s Christmas eve, and it just started snowing - of course it did, Thor probably arranged it somehow with his stupid space magic - and between the neighbor’s christmas lights and the shimmering aftereffects of Bifrost materialization flickering in the humungo snowflakes, the whole scene looks like the end credits of some stupid romantic comedy Darcy waits to watch until after everyone else is in bed. 

 

“Oh my god. Okay, oh _her_ god. I’ll never get over how that is _so cool_ ,” Darcy presses her forehead to the window, watching Jane and Thor. Jane and Thor, who are now making out in the middle of the street, oblivious to the crowd of onlookers standing around them with their cell phones and cameras out.

 

Ian sidles up to her and puts his arm around her waist. “Cool how they’ll be all over the internet in five seconds?”

 

Darcy turns and punches his arm. “Not that, you creepy peeping Ian. The whole…whoosh! Bam! Lighting and rainbows and HONEY I’M HOME!” She sighs, turning back to the window. “What girl doesn’t like a guy with a flashy ride?”

 

—

 

A week after he returns, Lady Darcy and Jane are sitting together in the kitchen, bickering over the evening’s activities. It is the Eve of the Midgardian New Year, and Darcy wants to go out to join in the public celebrations. Jane says she’s rather stay in where it’s cozy than risk death by drunken driver, and Darcy is directing dark looks at Thor as though Jane’s desire to stay safely at home is somehow his fault.

 

They are interrupted by Lady Darcy’s phone ringing shrilly. “This isn’t over,” she says to Jane, before answering it.

 

Even from where he stands on the other side of the room, Thor can hear Ian’s excited voice asking Darcy to come downstairs right away. “And don’t look out the window,” he adds. “No cheating!”

 

Darcy tosses her phone aside and runs to the window, looking down on the street below. “Oh…my god,” she laughs, covering her mouth with her hands, then lowers them. “Wait, I don’t get it.” She gives them both what Jane would call a _what the hell_ grin before running for the stairs.

 

“What?” Jane calls after her, and when she receives no answer, she, too, runs from the apartment, although she is wise enough to don her jacket, first. Thor, not wishing to be left out, follows after.

 

The street is snowy, and they pick their way across it to where Darcy is standing, open-mouthed, surveying the vehicle that Ian is displaying proudly. Thor recognizes it now as their old research van, but Ian is presenting it as though it is a gift for her. Thor does not understand, and by the puzzled look on her face neither does Jane, but Darcy is laughing and punching Ian in the way Thor has come to recognize as her way of showing affection.

 

The van, previously dirty white in color, has been transformed into a masterpiece of bright, swirling colors, and there are streaks of metallic gold like stylized lightning strikes down the side.

 

“Wait, you’re missing the best part,” Ian says, pulling her around to the back of the vehicle and pointing. Darcy’s face, previously alight with amusement, twists into a more teasing grin, her eyes questioning. 

 

“So…the car swings both ways?” She asks, looking up at Ian. “Not that I don’t appreciate your open-mindedness, I like a guy who isn’t afraid to experiment with all sorts of rides—“

 

“No,” Ian says, laughing, and Thor edges around to see what they’re looking at. The metal identification plate on the vehicle’s rear reads BICAR. “No, you know, like Bifrost, but…Bicar. They,” Ian waves a hand at himself and Jane, “travel Bi _frost_ , and we travel…Bi _car_.”

 

“Look at them,” Jane murmurs, moving closer to Thor, who puts his arm around her. Lady Darcy and Ian continue to kiss each other passionately, mindless of their presence. “They’re so good together, it’s like everything he does…she just wants to eat him up.”

 

Thor parses this carefully, tries valiantly to understand the idiom, then shakes his head. “Eat him up?” he repeats.

 

Jane laughs, turns to him and presses herself up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Never mind.”

 

Thor is left baffled, but with the beginnings of an idea. It takes some doing, an embarassing call to Tony Stark, and a bout of haggling with a confused pastry wench, but Thor is very pleased when he is able to present Jane with a gift of his own some weeks later

 

—

 

Darcy gets home half an hour after Jane calls her, and is hardly through the door before she starts squealing and laughing along with Jane.

 

“You said he ‘sent you a cake’,” Darcy’s saying, and though she’s in the kitchen and he’s hiding in the living room, Ian can hear the best-friend outrage in her voice as she registers just how spectacularly Jane failed to impart the truth of the situation via phone. “A _cake_ implies, like, a nine-by-twelve rectangle of sweet spongy goodness. _This_ is way beyond a cake.”

 

Ian had been there when the caterer arrived to set it up. A nearly life-sized creation of spun sugar and buttercream arranged in the shape of a muscley man, the Thunder God’s armor recreated right down to the unearthly bulge in his trousers. There’d been a card included, which Ian had shamelessly read over Jane’s shoulder.

 

_Dear Lady Jane,_

_I send you this gift with the fond hope that you will enjoy eating me up._

_Yours,_

_Thor Odinson_

 

Darcy was still exclaiming. “How did he even get this? He’s not human!”

 

“I know, right?” Jane says, giggling. “Here, you have to try it.”

 

“Ohh,” Darcy moans, making Ian instantly jealous. _Jealous of a cake, Boothby. You’re done for._ “This is ah-maze-ing, oh my god. Okay, okay, oh _your_ god.”

 

Jane laughs. “He’s really not a god, Darcy.”

 

“Yeah, I know. But it’s funny to say. Awwww,” Darcy trills with her mouth full, “it looks just like him, it’s even got his little face.”

 

“Darcy,” Jane says, serious. “ _Nothing_ about Thor is little.”

 

The girls break down laughing, and Ian goes to join them before it gets out of hand. 

 

—

 

It’s mid-February, the weather is miserable, and the two odd couples have only just worked their way through the remains of Thor’s cake. All is well in the world, except for how it’s freakin’ freezing and there’s nothing exciting going on. Darcy stops on her way up to check the mail, because she’s apparently the only responsible human in the building, and no one else ever remembers to do it.

 

 “Ian?” Darcy calls, kicking open the door. “Ian!”

 

He appears from the other room, holding the phase meter and a sheaf of Erik’s notes. “Yeah?”

 

“You got a thing,” she says, tossing the squishy package at him. He looks at it for a moment, then his face blooms with a grin. She raises her eyebrows, shrugging out of her coat. “What? Is it that new flux capacitor thingy you talked Jane into buying for you?”

 

He’s halfway through explaining that the flux capacitor is a fictional device but that he has his own ideas about how to construct something similar before he realizes she’s just messing with him. When his face falls, she has no choice but to kiss attack him, tumbling them both onto the couch, and it’s probably half an hour before he remembers the package. Which is cool by Darcy - he’s a good person to spend half an hour doing nothing with.

 

“It’s for you, actually,” he says excitedly, standing up. “take off your shirt.”

 

“Ex…cuse me?” she says, brushing her mussed hair back from her face and looking up at him from the couch. 

 

“Trust me,” he says, that ridiculous smile on his face. “Just take off your shirt, and you’ll see why.”

 

Well, Jane and Thor aren’t due home for awhile, and even if they were, it’s not like neither of them have seen her without her shirt on before. That time Thor thought the door was just stuck, not recognizing the feeble attempt of a puny human lock at keeping the bathroom door closed, was pretty priceless.  So she takes off her shirt and, at Ian’s insistence, closes her eyes as he tears open the package and wiggles her into a stiff cotton shirt. She even keeps them closed when he helps her up and leads her to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her door.

 

“Happy Valentines day,” he says. She opens her eyes, looks, gapes, then collapses in a fit of laughter. 

 

 

On the floor, she sees the package isn’t empty, and pulls out the rest of the contents. "Pajamas?"

 

“Oh, yeah,” Ian grins. “Those are for Jane and Thor.”

 

  

**Author's Note:**

> credit where credit is due: Darcy's t-shirt was designed at [CustomInk.com](http://www.customink.com/designs/midgard/gfr0-000y-hjuk/hotlink?pc=HL-76683&cm_mmc=hotlink-_-3-_-Body_txt-_-button1)


End file.
